


Our Places

by entanglednow



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-04
Updated: 2010-02-04
Packaged: 2017-10-14 17:29:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/151714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entanglednow/pseuds/entanglednow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's still new enough that Dean doesn’t quite believe it sometimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Places

It's still new enough that Dean doesn’t quite believe it sometimes.

The way there's still that slow moment of awkward uncertainty before he slides into Castiel's personal space and kisses him. Even though he knows that he can, that Castiel wants him too. That he'll kiss back, mouth open and easy and just as demanding. The realisation that Dean can push his hands under the dishevelled clothes and touch bare skin, taste it, spread it out and worship it. It's still new enough to leave him a mess of stupid lust.

He knows without asking that Castiel will do anything he wants. He knows the angel will give everything he has.

Dean finds himself wanting to know what _he_ wants, what Castiel needs, what he likes.

"What do you want, Cas?" he asks between kisses. "Anything you want."

Castiel's eyes are dark in the half-light, mouth swollen and red. He frowns like he doesn’t understand.

"What do you want me to do for you?" Dean says thickly. "How do you want to come?"

The angel makes a soft noise.

"Tell me," Dean encourages.

"I would like you on your knees." Castiel's voice, low and rough, makes it sound like something filthy.

Dean breathes out helplessly, a half-shiver of greedy approval sliding down his spine and pooling low in his stomach.

"You want to fuck my mouth, Cas?"

The angel's eyes close briefly as if the unexpected obscenity of the question leaves him breathless.

Dean slides a little closer, hands in Castiel's shirt, voice a curl of warmth against his mouth.

"Is that what you want? You want me on my knees, all open for you?"

A sharply indrawn breath and Castiel's eyes are focused on him and nothing else.

"All you've got to do is ask, you know," Dean says smoothly. Because it's true, God, it's more true than maybe he wants to admit to sometimes. "Anything you want, Cas."

"Dean -"

Dean drops to his knees, ignores the edge of discomfort when they hit the thin carpet. He tips his head back and looks up at Castiel, then lifts his hands to spread the edges of his coat apart.

Castiel looks drunk, eyes dark, mouth half open. His fingers lift, touch Dean's face, they drop and slide across his mouth, like just the thought of it is too much. Like he still doesn’t quite believe that he's allowed either.

Dean opens, sucks in two fingers in one movement. Castiel makes a low surprised noise when they slide across his tongue. He tastes smooth, salty and warm and Dean can't resist pulling a little, keeping them when Castiel tries to drag them free.

God, the noise Castiel makes, all the little broken, human sounds of want the angel knows how to make now. Dean thinks he's pretty damn addicted to them.

He opens his mouth slowly and Castiel eases his fingers free, leaving a slick trail of spit down his jaw. It's too much, too suggestive and Dean's hands are impatient and careless on the catch and zipper of Castiel's pants. He drags cloth over the angel's hips and down until he finds the warm, bare curve of his cock.

Castiel pulls his mouth open, then slides his hand back, folds it round the curve of his skull, he doesn't pull but _encourages_ Dean forward with barely-there presses of his fingertips.

For Castiel that's greedy, that's desperate and Dean rewards him. He wraps his hand round the base, leans in, mouth dropping open, taking him in. Slide of weight and heat on his tongue that draws a low soft groan from Castiel's throat.

Dean makes him slick in long slides, listens to the soft, punched out sound of every breath that leaves the angel, feels the tremor that runs through him every time Dean slides free, leaving him wet to the air of the room.

He sways between tight and quick, slow and sloppy until Castiel is moving, not just twitches but needy little pushes. Until the slow drag-slide of his cock against Dean's tongue and lips is under his own control. He doesn’t know how to deal with it, rhythm gone hard and messy. But, judging by the noises he makes, he likes it.

It's good, it's greedy, and Dean's achingly hard inside his jeans, straining to ignore it. To break the angel into pieces before he even thinks about himself

Castiel's pulling at the back of Dean's head, broken little pleas falling free and Dean's hand is moving, helping in quick dirty little shifts. Castiel's eyes close abruptly on a rough, choked out noise and he's coming across his tongue. One long messy shiver of release that seems to surprise him. Dean works him through it, swallows and lets him tremble and push and fall to pieces.

Until Dean lets his softening cock slip free.

He presses his forehead against the angel's stomach while Castiel's hand cards slowly, reverently, through his hair.


End file.
